


Taste the Rainbow (In the Rain)

by almaasi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Autumn, Bookshop owner Castiel, Candy, Dancing in the Rain, Dean Winchester Works in a Record Store, First Kiss, Fluff, Illustrated, Kissing in the Rain, M/M, No Angst, Oneshot, Oral Fixation, Rain, Romance, Skittles, Smoker Dean Winchester, Storms, Strangers to Lovers, Umbrellas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-05 18:13:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20277616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almaasi/pseuds/almaasi
Summary: Taking shelter from the rain, Dean converses with a beautiful blue-eyed stranger, who eats all of the blue Skittles, and suggests a sweet way to help Dean quit smoking.





	Taste the Rainbow (In the Rain)

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by my own fics **[Sharing the Rain Dog](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4458296)** and **[Dry in the Downpour](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15016418)**, as well as **[Passing in the Night](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1196172)** by kototyph. I also wrote a similar scene in my fic **[Nine Times We Met (And One Christmas We Parted)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1149451)**, but I only realised why this felt familiar when I was halfway through writing. :P
> 
> Beta'd by Amara, Joanjun, and Katie.

Dean wasn’t an umbrella kind of guy. He was a stay-at-home-if-it’s-raining kind of guy.

He was potentially a black-trenchcoat-with-popped-collar kind of guy, if it was just drizzle or fog, and he was going somewhere classy so had an excuse to wear a lopsided fedora and put his hands in his pockets as he skulked between diagonal shadows. But that hardly ever happened.

His well-meaning younger brother Sam gave Dean this piece of crap he called an umbrella. The thing didn’t want to open, and when it did pop up, it almost bit Dean’s fingers off. Sam had three half-trained cockatoos and none of _them_ ever chomped this hard. Not only did the umbrella attack its user, but it was clearly intended for a tiptoe of wetness, not an actual stampede of a storm, such as this.

Dean was just trying to get down to the Gas-N-Sip for a pack of smokes before it got dark. Honestly, it shouldn’t have been this hard. He looked out at the cars slug-sliming their way up and down the road, their wipers smashing out waves, their wheels moving too slowly to splash puddles at pedestrians. The dirty, oil-slick water gushed at the curb, gurgling in fits and gulps down the striped void of the storm drain.

Against the flow of hurrying people, Dean made his staggering way up the street, pausing to fight the wind, as it teased his umbrella almost as much as the spokes of other umbrellas, which spiked and slashed at his own with every step he took.

The smell of car fumes hung low in the air, bitter and grey on the back of Dean’s tongue. Twilight slowly closed over the street like a shutter drawn down over the sky. Dean looked left, and saw a store clerk packing up, lights going off. Dean looked right, over the road, and saw a grocer and a bag boy outside, pulling the grate down and taking in the carts of vegetables. A lantern swung over the store’s threshold, rocked by the breeze – a breeze depositing a sting of cold raindrops and taking a hard tug on Dean’s umbrella.

He fought it, and won.

He kept trudging, knowing his destination was only a few minutes away.

The path was clearer now. Everyone was heading away from the workers’ part of town, whereas Dean was heading in. He could almost see the Gas-N-Sip’s cheery blue sign, when the wind picked up. Dean heard a _schnip_ overhead and felt a hard tug, then an absence of force. Now rain tickled his forehead, and he growled, stopping in the street. His umbrella was inside-out.

He was in the way of people, so apologised and hurried leftwards, hopping up one step over a puddle, into the doorway alcove of a bookshop. A bold, golden glaze illuminated the mud on the tiles, which splattered away as Dean shook his umbrella, trying to flip the thing right-way-in again.

He heard a tinkly bell, and his ass got smacked by a door. He jumped, slipped, but found his trenchcoat lapel grabbed by a strong hand, keeping him from dropping back to the sidewalk puddle.

“Careful,” said the silhouette. He let Dean go, and leaned back into the store.

He turned the bookshop’s lights off, and backed out again at Dean’s side, carrying a coat over his arm. Now lit by moving car lights, Dean saw the stranger was pale with dark hair, and about his own age.

“You’re tellin’ _me_ to be careful?” Dean uttered incredulously. “You’re the one who hit me with the door, dude.”

“Apologies,” the man said, pulling on his trenchcoat. His one was tan-coloured and more form-fitting than Dean’s, flaring out at the hips. He turned to face the door, pulling out keys to lock it.

Dean looked at the bookshop door, then at the man. “You run the bookshop? Nova-kitty?”

“Yes,” the man said, pocketing his keys. “Running it, hopefully not into the ground.”

Dean grinned. “You wanna explain what the name means? I pass this place on the way to the record store I work at, I always wondered.”

“Record store— Oh! Winchester’s...? Winchester’s Rockin’ Records?”

“That’s the one.”

The man smiled, then sighed. “Everyone calls us Nova-kitty. But it’s _Novakuity_. My sister Hannah told me it wouldn’t translate, and I never believed her. It’s a play on words. Our surname is Novak. And... well, we intend to only sell interesting books. No boring ones. _No vacuity_, in other words.”

Dean snorted, fiddling with his broken umbrella. “I like Nova-kitty better.”

“Everyone does. Myself included.”

“So...” Dean rolled a shoulder. “Novak. You got a first name to go with that?”

The man looked into Dean’s eyes for what felt like the first time, and Dean wished he could tell what colour they were, because dang, they were pretty even in the shadows.

“Castiel,” said the man, sounding surprised that he’d been asked. “You?”

“Dean. Dean Winchester.” Dean held out his hand to shake.

Castiel wrestled to take his hand out of his own pocket, then shook. “Winchester. You run the record store, don’t you? You don’t just _work_ there.” His hands were warm, dry, sturdy, and he smiled. “It’s been a pleasure saving you from a dirty puddle, Dean.”

“Hey, you pushed me,” Dean smiled, squeezing the other guy’s hand once before pulling away. “Eh. Water under the bridge, let’s say.”

“Too much of it,” Castiel agreed. “I heard the riverbanks were overflowing.”

“Yeah, I heard that too. Flooding cut off the low roads, too.” Dean looked back at the heinous contraption in his hand, giving it a frustrated shake. “God-dammit, come on.”

“Do you require assistance?”

“Aw, nah, I’m just tryna get down to the Gas-N-Sip. It’s like two minutes from here, I’ll be fine.”

“If you hold it, I’ll flip the frame,” Castiel offered, hands out.

“If you do that, it’s gonna pinch a finger,” Dean warned. “This thing’s a goner. I think Sam was just trying to banish it by giving it to me.”

Castiel pondered his options, and decided, no, he’d like to keep his fingers intact. He put them back in his pockets. And Dean was quietly glad, because they were nice hands.

“Wise choice,” Dean sighed, putting the umbrella down. It looked like a rapier sword stabbed into an upturned jell-o with a metal exoskeleton. What a sad sight.

Now without any clue what to do, Dean fished in his breast pocket for his cigarette case. He pulled it out, popping it open – but his shoulders sank down in dismay when he saw there was only one cigarette left. He’d known, but he’d forgotten.

He pulled his precious single out, and glanced at Castiel, about to ask if he wanted to share, when he saw the look of distaste on Castiel’s face, and Dean slowly lowered the stick from his lips. “Not a fan?” Dean asked.

Castiel shook his head.

Dean wet his lips and regretfully put the cigarette back where it came from. “Ahhh,” he sighed. “Guess I’m tryna quit anyway. Way easier to do if I don’t have any’a these bastards _on_ me, right?”

“Presumably,” Castiel agreed, still gazing intently at Dean.

Dean felt himself heat up under that scrutiny.

He licked his lips again, eyes lowering to the broken umbrella, then the glossy wet street, tapped by boots and shoes and scuffed by the hard heel of a stiletto. A hush came along, puddles rippling as a car passed close to the curb.

At a loss for anything to do, Dean reached for his cigarette case, taking it into his hand, popping it open—

Castiel cleared his throat.

Dean looked down at his hand, then blushed and hurriedly put it away. “God,” he whispered. “I just—” He almost laughed, embarrassed to have been caught out like that. “It’s automatic, you know? Just gotta have somethin’ to _suck_ on all the freaking time.”

He blushed harder when he noticed Castiel’s eyes crinkling with amusement. That steady gaze shone gold as a car passed and cast headlights over his face. He was beautiful – beautiful enough that Dean turned his head to face him, wanting to catch another glimpse of his smile.

“Do you have something to chew, instead?” Castiel asked. “Gum – food?”

Dean nodded, head down, patting his pockets one by one. “I got... uh...” He started to grin, finding something small and crinkly at the bottom of his right-hand breast pocket. He pulled it out, seeing only the faintest of blues, criss-crossed with white, as the packet had been bruising in that pocket for some time. “Skittles! Rainforest flavour.”

“That would work,” Castiel said. “Keep your mouth busy.”

Dean chuckled, being careful not to rip the whole packet open, just a corner. “Was savin’ them for a rainy day,” he admitted. He cocked his head towards the darkened street, where rain descended fast, pattering along in a changing rhythm. “This counts, right?”

“I’d say so.” Castiel’s smile resided mostly in his eyes, but now it had spread to his lips, curling one side up.

Dean tossed back a few Skittles, humming a note as the sugar coatings cracked and the round shapes became sharp little lumpy things under his teeth. He chewed hard, already looking down to pour more onto his hand.

Castiel looked out into the street, releasing a small, cloudy breath. “Well,” he said. “Um. It was nice to meet you. And I’m sorry about your umbrella, and – for hitting you with the door. I suppose I’d better—”

Dean offered the packet. “You want some?”

Castiel hesitated, but then opened a hand. “All right.”

“They’re the tropical ones.”

“I like those.”

Dean tipped out a few, and Castiel fingered them all, pushing the dark ones aside, then shaking his head and eating one of them.

“Hm,” he said. “That was banana? Banana berry.”

“They all taste the same to me,” Dean grinned. “You have a favourite?”

“Yes, blue. It’s pineapple and passionfruit.”

“Here.” Dean began tipping out Skittles onto his palm, offering them to Castiel. “Uhh... that one.” He pointed to one he was sure was blue. Castiel took it, ate it, then shook his head. “That one?”

Castiel ate a third Skittle, then h’med happily. “Yes.”

Dean began sorting them on his hand, opening his eyes wide, then squinting, as if either of those actions would help him see colour in the dark.

When he had five blue Skittles on his fingers, Castiel reached and scooped them off, hand stroking Dean’s palm as he did. They shared a stunned, shaky laugh, both nervous all of a sudden. Their eyes flashed up to meet, Dean biting his lip as he grinned, Castiel blinking a few times, looking down, then looking back up, holding Dean’s gaze shyly.

Dean realised the guy was queer. He had to be. No straight guy would notice a touch like that, nor react like that.

Dean smiled, facing the street again, casually leaning closer to Castiel, plucking Skittles from his palm one-by-one, munching them into oblivion.

“How long have you had an oral fixation?” Castiel asked. His voice seemed deeper than before.

Dean’s eyes shot to him, seeing him gaze innocently back, one finger between his lips as he placed a Skittle in.

Dean gulped. “Um.” He smiled down at his rainbow candy, bashful. “I dunno. I never thought about it.” He chewed, thinking back. “Started smoking a few years back. Used’ta chew Juicy Fruit gum, like, all the time. Chewed all my pens in class – damn.” Dean laughed uneasily, realising it went back to when he was in elementary school. Maybe he’d never really grown out of the toddler phase of putting things in his mouth. He snorted. “God, that’s messed up.”

“No... it’s normal? At least I _think_ it’s normal,” Castiel said unsurely, eating his last Skittle, then brushing his empty palms together like there were crumbs to dispose of. “I couldn’t say for sure. But—?” He shrugged, looking Dean in the eye, all of him draped in shadow, then lit in the flash of an LED headlight that made his eyes look blue. “But I think a smoking habit grounded in oral fixation could be replaced with something less cancer-inducing with relative ease.”

“Yeah. Get diabetes and bad teeth instead,” Dean uttered, tossing back the last of his Skittles. “Shounds aweshome.”

“Please try,” Castiel said. “Find a sugar-free gum, or— Or healthy snacks. I hear pumpkin or sunflower seeds are quite good for you. Just... please, don’t give up trying to quit.”

Dean caught his eyes, taken aback by such a soft imploration from a stranger.

“Uh,” Dean said. “Yeah. Yeah, oh— Okay.” He gulped, hands slipping back into his pockets, crunching the empty candy bag. “Thanks.” He grinned down at the muddy tiles, feeling fragile under Castiel’s watchful eye.

Dean gulped, surveying the rainfall. It hadn’t let up, and given it had been going for days, Dean doubted it would stop within the next five minutes. No sooner than he’d thought that, a great splatter released from the eaves over the alcove, and Dean flinched back with a sniff. Castiel hadn’t been so quick, and now flicked his hands to shake off the water, looking disdainfully up at the bit of roof over them, which still dripped.

“Betrayal,” he uttered.

His coat was now flecked dark on one side, and he tried to brush it away with a palm, but only streaked the darkness downwards.

Dean chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re gonna get a lot wetter than that once you head out, Cas.”

Castiel perked up at the nickname.

Dean rolled a shoulder, wondering if he’d shortened the guy’s name because he was trying to flirt, or whether he’d forgotten the full thing. “Castiel,” he remembered.

“Cas is fine,” Castiel smiled.

Dean was glad it was dark, so if he acted confident, Cas wouldn’t see he was blushing, and happily flustered.

“Cas,” Castiel said again, looking out at the rain. “What do you know, I quite like that.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “Wait, does nobody call you that?”

“You do,” Castiel shrugged. “Apparently.”

Dean laughed, toeing gently at the broken umbrella. “Awesome.”

They went quiet for a while, listening to the gush of the rain, hissing and drumming on the cars as they cut one-by-one through the black. Dean drew in a deep breath; it was thick with humidity, but still refreshing.

“I suppose,” Castiel said, “we’re friends now?”

Dean glanced at him, unused to people saying stuff like that. “Okay?”

Castiel grinned. His eyes gleamed with reflected streetlights, as did his teeth – and then his entire left side was suddenly lit up by searing white lightning. In the flash Dean saw blue. Castiel’s eyes were a perfect crystalline blue, his focus intense. A moment later the ground quaked with thunder, the air split with a chaotic deep boom that struck the faintest spark of cerebral terror inside Dean. He laughed it off, eyes locked to Castiel’s as darkness returned, unable to look away now.

Castiel seemed intrigued by the storm, leaning out into the rain to look up. “Isn’t it wonderful?” he asked, voice raised so Dean heard him. He laughed as the water speckled his face and ran down his chin. He came back into the alcove, puffing out cloudy breaths, wiping his cheeks down with both hands, eyes alive. “Oh, I love storms.”

“And yet you’re hangin’ out here with me, in the dry,” Dean argued.

Castiel rolled a shoulder. “There’s all sorts of storms.”

Dean parted his lips, unsure what that implied.

Castiel chuckled, head down. “I just mean—” His eyes met Dean’s, and he said, tentatively, “When two oncoming fronts meet at different temperatures, there’s a certain clash. A certain...” He licked his lips, and Dean mirrored him. “A certain confluence of air-tides. Hot. Cold.” He tilted his head, something curious and knowing in his gaze. “One slips under. One over. Rushing. Heat rises – chills descend. Moisture forms.” Castiel already stood close, as the alcove was narrow, but took another step closer, taking Dean’s coat lapel the same way he had the moment they met. He gripped hard, easing Dean down just a single inch so their eyes were level, and Castiel’s stare became too intense to bear. His voice rumbled, thunder in his breath. “The two fronts mix and mingle and move together. And at the climax of it all, Dean... At the climax, a storm starts to _roar_.”

Dean wet his lips, twice, eyes shifting from Castiel’s lips, to his eyes, to his lips again.

Castiel let Dean go, stroking his lapel straight. “Anyhow,” he said curtly, stepping back, hands in his pockets. “I enjoy the thrill of observing a thunderstorm. That’s all.”

Oh.

Not flirting, then. Cas just had _really_ intense feelings about the weather.

Dean didn’t know what to do with himself. Letting out a trembling breath through his open mouth, he dug into his breast pocket for his cigarette case. He was part-way through opening it when he felt a warm hand over his own, pushing the case down.

“Aw, come _on_,” Dean uttered, scowling, shoving the case back into his pocket. “Get it together, Dean. Honestly, one blank moment and I’m jonesin’ again.”

“I told you, you just need something to occupy your mouth,” Castiel said carelessly.

“Tell me about it,” Dean muttered. “Maybe while I’m at the Gas-N-Sip I oughta pick up a truckload of bubblegum or something.”

“You could,” Castiel agreed. “In fact, that sounds like a very good idea.”

“But?” Dean smiled. He knew how Sam talked, and he knew when a ‘but’ was coming. Cas had spoken in a similar way just now.

“But,” Castiel said, facing Dean. “But, um.”

“But what?”

“But perhaps you could also consider – this.” Castiel stepped close, took Dean’s jaw in his palm, and leaned in to kiss him.

Dean froze up, hands open on nothing. His eyes closed of their own volition. Lips parted, because he was being kissed and he really liked being kissed. He let his tongue roam the edge of Castiel’s lips, tasting the tropical tang of blue Skittles. Suddenly they did taste different, all condensed like that. Suddenly blue was the best flavour. Pineapple and passionfruit.

Castiel puffed a hot breath on Dean’s jaw as he pulled back, fingers still holding his chin.

Dean gazed at him, feeling hotter than he ever thought possible when it was so chilly out here. He started to smile, and the smile grew to a grin.

“Um,” Castiel smiled back, a little lopsided, awkward thing that was somehow more natural than any of his other smiles. “Just a suggestion,” he shrugged, stepping back, flexing his now-empty fingers like there was tension there he needed to release. “You know. Potentially, if you needed – I don’t know – something for your mouth to do.”

Dean parted his lips, then let out a breathy laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “You taste like blue Skittles.”

Castiel stuck his hands in his pockets, chuckling as he pressed his side to Dean’s, warm through their coats. “You taste like a rainbow.”

“Aah-hah!,” Dean joked. “So _that’s_ what the slogan means.”

Castiel threw his head back laughing, knees bent, and Dean watched him, mesmerised, astonished and gratified that he made him _do_ that. Dean wanted to make him laugh a lot. Like, all the time. And make him go all growly again. And get him _wet_ – inside an apartment or outside in the rain, he barely cared.

Dean took Castiel by the sleeve, then eased close again, nose to nose, hands taking his firm, slender waist under the coat.

Castiel peered into Dean’s eyes, mirth shining in his own. “I’m sorry if I was too forward,” he said softly.

“Aw,” Dean shrugged, resettling his feet, head down, thumb stroking Castiel’s stubbled jaw. “Oncoming fronts meeting, right?” He grinned, holding Castiel’s blue gaze in their shadowed, private world. “Gotta start somewhere.”

Castiel reached up, taking Dean’s hand from his face, holding it, lacing their fingers together – all without breaking eye contact.

“Walk with me, Dean,” Castiel said.

Dean fretted. “Walk? In the rain?” He looked plaintively at the umbrella.

“Yes, in the rain.”

Castiel pulled Dean by the hand, stepping out over the puddle and into the downpour. He helped Dean hop the puddle, and Dean grumbled, disliking the immediate cold cling on his neck, the damp pricks in his hair, the increased volume of noise all around. The street was almost clear of people now, but the road was jammed with traffic.

Castiel took Dean’s hand and spun his arm over his head – and at first Dean just hit his arm on his chest, then realised he was being twirled. And he let Cas turn him, twisting for three seconds, finding himself laughing when he returned to his starting point.

Again, they twirled, one after the other, taking turns, stepping on down the street. Dean followed where Cas led, long coats flaring as they spun. Stepping, splashing, shoes coming down in the rush of water underfoot. Dean held onto Cas, and Cas held onto him, and they danced.

Ten feet of tango. Three feet of salsa. A jaywalk through idling cars, uplit by car lights, waltzing up onto the next curb, eyes only on each other.

They let each other go, and chased the rain up the sidewalk, Castiel following Dean, Dean leading Cas, laughing.

Dean reached back and snatched up Cas’ hand again, running backwards, then halting as Castiel grabbed him close to kiss.

Dean breathed out hard, smiling into the kiss, heart beating fast, soul rising. He was soaked through, and he didn’t care.

He and Castiel shared a beat of silence, among the everlasting whisper of the world around them. They embraced; strangers, not strangers, friends, forming storms. Dean buried his lips between Castiel’s, nose in his cheek, and Castiel combed fingers through Dean’s glossy-wet hair.

Dean broke away, laughing, shaking his head, looking up into the pouring sky, eyes falling closed. “I hate the rain,” he said aloud. “But I kinda frickin’ _love_ this.”

Castiel tugged on his hand, and Dean went where he was led, taking care to watch where he was going. They ran, jogged, danced to the Gas-N-Sip, slowing only once they got under the great square roof and its bright lights.

They were out of breath, dripping onto the concrete, smiling.

Dean caught Castiel’s eyes. He grinned.

Castiel grinned back, pushing hair off his forehead and into a messy quiff. He looked as thrilled as Dean felt, his blue eyes skipping away, but quickly returning to Dean.

Dean licked his lips, still tasting blue Skittles, mixed with rain. He glanced at the Gas-N-Sip, then back at Cas.

“Hey,” Dean said.

He peered back out at the rain. Then at Castiel.

“C’mon, Cas.”

With that, he fell back into a run, and Castiel went along with him, starting questions but leaving them unfinished, as they were all answered. Dean returned to the storm, to the wide sidewalk beside the gas station, and opened his arms, spinning, guffawing at the utter euphoria of this crazy awakening, all his needs swept from his mind, filled up with simple pleasures and easy joys.

He whooped to the Heavens, eyes on Castiel as he too embraced the rain, head back, eyes shut, grinning—

“Whoa-whoa!” Dean grabbed Castiel’s lapel, yanking him away from the road. A car trawled past, honking.

Castiel panted, looking at the nearby curb, then into Dean’s eyes.

“Careful,” Dean said.

Castiel stared for a while. Then he shut his eyes and kissed him.

There was something different about this kiss. Dean allowed his smile to fade naturally, and felt his urge to dance go still. He let the rain caress his cheeks, warming by the time it reached his chin. He held Cas’ face, turning his head, kissing, and letting himself be kissed.

They separated, water shining on their faces, droplets wobbling on the tips of their noses. They grinned, but it was subdued.

“I suppose,” Castiel said, reading Dean’s face with fast-glancing eyes, then returning to hold his gaze, “we’re romantic partners now?”

Like before, Dean wasn’t used to people telling him that stuff. Since meeting Cas, he’d barely had the time or the need to think ahead – but if he had, maybe he would’ve expected a fun, intimate night together, maybe Dean would stop by at the bookshop for the occasional book-nook hook-up in the future, or Cas would come by the record store for a rockin’ good time, but he hadn’t envisioned... this.

And yet?

What came out of Dean’s mouth was, “Okay.”

Castiel seemed content, like he hadn’t truly expected Dean to answer any other way. He took Dean’s hand, and led him... somewhere. Onwards. Onwards through the dark, in the rain.

Whenever Dean reached for his cigarette case, they stopped, and they kissed.

Seriously, though – he’d have to buy some special chewing gum or _something_. Whether his habit had roots in an oral fixation or not, nicotine was still addictive.

But... that was for later.

For now, all his cravings were satisfied by the taste of blue.

Dean and Castiel danced on into the night, two sparks in the blackness – in a flash, lit up by white.

**{ the end }**

**Author's Note:**

> ★ [reblog fic](https://almaasi.tumblr.com/post/187064798340/taste-the-rainbow-in-the-rain)  
★ [reblog art](https://almaasi.tumblr.com/post/187073630805/taste-the-rainbow-in-the-rain-42k-t)
> 
> Welp, I guess this fic joins my little collection of Destiel fluff pieces set in the pouring rain!! The other two fics being:  
♥ **[Sharing the Rain Dog](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4458296)** (19.8k, FBI agent!Cas & musician!Dean co-parenting a lil doggo)  
♥ **[Dry in the Downpour](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15016418)** (5.1k, a ficlet inspired by those Pixar shorts with almost no talking but all the visual emotions)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! As always, there's more Destiel fics on the way - and if you're also on board for some Good Omens fics sprinkled in (I found myself a soft new home, oops) then please [CLICK HERE and hit the button on the top right](https://archiveofourown.org/users/almaasi) to subscribe to author updates~
> 
> Wishing you all the biggest, sparkliest rainbows.  
Elmie x


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